


True Colours

by merihobu



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 21:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1873893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merihobu/pseuds/merihobu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about Egalmoth, rainbows, and bling.</p>
<p>Or: Egalmoth explains the rationale behind his house name and emblem in a conversation with Glorfindel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Colours

“I have to say, Egalmoth… even for you, that is a tad over the top.”

Egalmoth ran a hand over his new breastplate, pausing to caress the cluster of jewels at its centre. “Judging from Rog’s expression when I first showed him the designs, you are not alone in your opinion. He was most unamused by my request for similar shields.”

Glorfindel tore his eyes away from the dazzling opal in Egalmoth’s helm and stretched his legs out on the grass. “Rog is unamused by most things. I am surprised he even indulged your request, instead of sending you over to Maeglin. Still, don’t you find such a display a little… ostentatious?”

“I do not see how it differs from, say, Ecthelion’s armour—after all, his is just as bejewelled, and sparkles just as obscenely. People seem to excuse it only because it does so in monochrome, as if that somehow makes it subtler. Personally, I cannot understand why anyone would stick with such a colour scheme, after the endless grey of the Helcaraxë.”

There was something defensive in the way Glorfindel pursed his lips. “While the Helcaraxë has definitely increased my appreciation of colour, this getup of yours hurtles past the realm of good taste and straight into that of gaudiness.”

“Nonsense. Do you find rainbows gaudy?”

“Well, no, but then again, one does not usually wear them.”

“Be that as it may, mine is the House of the Heavenly Arch, and I see no point in wasting a perfectly good opportunity to live up to that name.”

“You came up with that name just for an excuse to live up to it! Speaking of which, I have always wondered: why the Heavenly Arch, though? Why not, instead, something to do with _arch_ ery,”—Egalmoth made a show of rolling his eyes—“or some nautical motif of your mother's, or, since you love those glorified rocks of yours so much, why not just name your house after them?”

Egalmoth snorted. “What, and be lord of the House of the Gemstones? How uncharacteristically unpoetic of you. That would make our opulence a little too in-your-face, don’t you think?” He flicked a speck of imaginary dust off his breastplate. “Besides, it is not as though I have a monopoly on jewels, or archery—and I don't see Duilin naming his house after bowmen, nor Turgon employing precious stones in his emblem.”

“That is because Turgon has other priorities.”

“I suppose so, yes. But as to your question…” Removing his helm and leaning back into the grass, Egalmoth stared up at the cloudless sky, blue as the shield that lay beside him. “If I remember correctly, you spent most of your pre-Beleriand days in Tirion.” At Glorfindel’s nod, he continued, “I don’t recall ever witnessing a proper thunderstorm there.”

Glorfindel shook his head.

“Pity. You missed out on some truly spectacular displays. Or at least they were spectacular back when I was a child peering over the prow of a swan-ship; it took little to impress me, back then…” He gestured towards the expanse of blue above them. “The sky would still be half dark with rainclouds, and out in the open sea there was nothing to block your view. And there it would be in all its glory: a colossal archway stretching as far into the horizon as the eye could see. At that time, it felt as though someone had taken the light of father’s gemstones and projected them in perfect harmony across the sky.” His eyes glazed over as he let his fingers wander over the boss of his shield.

“If the rainbows at Vinyamar are anything to go by, I regret not having visited Alqualonde when I had the chance.” Glorfindel glanced at Egalmoth before shifting his gaze down to his own hands. Taking a stray lock of golden hair, he began scrutinising its ends before continuing, “You'll probably find this silly, and chide me for being overly sentimental, but I-I used to comfort myself by imagining that the rainbow was a bridge of sorts between Middle-earth and Valinor, connecting us in some way to our lost kin… that it was put there by the Valar after a storm, as a sign of reassurance, that things would be all right and all would be forgiven one day.”

Egalmoth’s eyes snapped back into focus, and there was an edge of bitterness to his laugh. “Would it surprise you if I told you that I, too, once harboured such illusions? Only it was the other way round, from the vantage point of Alqualondë, and without all those pesky implications of doom.” He shut his eyes.

“I was very young, of course… it was before I fully grasped the nature of rainbows. I remember playing around fountains, and grabbing at those shimmering bands of colour arising from the spray. It never ceased to disappoint me when my fist closed in on thin air.” A small, nostalgic smile appeared on his face.

“How I remember my initial confusion! Running to my mother in distress, and asking what I had done to make those pretty things elude me. In hindsight, I am glad she put an end to any romantic notions I might have had at such an early age.” He raised a finger to the sky.

“‘Never trust a rainbow to bring you lasting joy,’ I remember her saying. ‘First of all, they are full circles masquerading as arcs, and therefore inherently deceptive. Secondly, they are unreliable in their elusiveness, and cannot be summoned at one’s whim. Thirdly, you’d be hard pressed to ever touch one, given that they take no tangible form, and recede as you approach. So find yourself a less fleeting source of happiness, my boy.’ Always very no-nonsense, she was.”

“And so you moved on to gemstones?”

“No, those are because my father never let me play with his collection when I was young. When I told him how the colours inspired me, he gave me a prism. A lousy prism! Do not get me wrong, they are fascinating in their own right, and enough fun I suppose, but I wanted colours I could _touch_.”

Glorfindel cast an amused glance at the glittering breastplate. “I see. A classic case of overcompensating for a deprived childhood. So, why the rainbow, then, with all its inauspicious implications?”

Egalmoth shrugged. “Why not? Do you really think all this is going to last?” He waved his hand again, this time impatiently. “Sooner or later, Morgoth is going to find us, and our fair city will burn, and we will all perish in some way or other—I can only hope mine will be a quick and early death. In the meantime, I intend to enjoy every last bit of this luxury while it lasts.”

“Well, you certainly seem to be doing a good job.”

Egalmoth smirked. “Wait till Rog is done with my vambraces.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- I apologise on Glorfindel’s behalf for his truly awful arch(ery) unjoke.
> 
> \- Tolkien’s description of Egalmoth’s house in _The Book of Lost Tales II_ :
>
>> But they of the Heavenly Arch being a folk of uncounted wealth were arrayed in a glory of colours, and their arms were set with jewels that flamed in the light now over the sky. Every shield of that battalion was of the blue of the heavens and its boss a jewel built of seven gems, rubies and amethysts and sapphires, emeralds, chrysoprase, topaz, and amber, but an opal of great size was set in their helms.
> 
> ... if that isn't Ultimate Bling, I don't know what is.
> 
> \- I am a complete dunce at Science, and did not understand half the research I did on rainbows, so please let me know if I portrayed something unrealistically.
> 
> \- This is my first fic ever (!!!), and I am as a whole very insecure about my “writing”. As such, I would very much appreciate any constructive criticism. You are also welcome to suggest a less cheesy title.
> 
> \- I lack a beta-reader (as you can probably tell), and have no idea how to go about finding one. So consider this an open invitation for any interested parties (the nitpickier the better!), although I dunno when/if I’ll write something again.
> 
> \- If you made it this far, thank you for reading.


End file.
